


12.17 Carol

by Ruaki



Series: dffxnoehopu [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII-2
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, noehopu advent calendar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 04:48:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1089794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruaki/pseuds/Ruaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noel wants to go caroling, but Hope is supposedly very bad at singing... (Fill for Day 17 of my NoeHopu Advent Calendar, found at my tumblr.)  Set at the end of Libera Me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	12.17 Carol

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by the "Imagine your OTP" prompt:  
> Imagine Person A of your OTP is an excellent singer, but hides it for some reason by singing off-key. One day, Person B walks in on Person A singing in the most beautiful voice Person B has ever heard.
> 
> It was posted by user bekascrazyrambles at tumblr, with tags implying that Hope would be the 'excellent singer.' I felt the prompt fit the season and worked well with the Libera Me verse. So it became my only text entry in my NoeHopu Advent Calendar.

**12.17 Carol**

"Hey, Hope!" Noel said brightly as he burst into the den one evening.

Hope was sprawled on the plush carpet, his laptop before him and his students’ papers scattered about. At Noel’s shout, Hope immediately started gathering up the sheets with a resigned sound.

Noel folded his arms over his chest; he was never going to live that down. And it only had happened once! The class assignments had been safely removed all those other times. “You know, if you weren’t such a slob, this wouldn’t even be an issue.”

“As much as I enjoy these breaks,” Hope replied neutrally, and Noel suspected Hope worked this way on _purpose_ , “was there something else you needed?” He closed the laptop and pushed the stack of papers away, looking up at Noel expectantly.

Grinning, Noel launched himself at the professor, tangling himself in slim limbs. “So Ms. Rosa invited me to go caroling—you know, like they do on the TV.”

“Sounds fun,” Hope murmured noncommittally, long fingers working at the buttons on Noel’s shirt. “Freezing your rear off while warbling jingles to a captive audience too polite to ask you to leave.”

Noel ignored the sarcasm. “So you’ll come with me, right? It’ll be next week. You said you’ll be on break then.”

Hope’s fingers stilled. “I rather not.”

Noel made a face. “Why?”

“I … don’t sing very well.”

“I don’t either.”

“Yes, you remind me every morning.” Hope paused a moment to shoot a stare which spoke volumes on what he thought about Noel’s enthusiastic yodels while showering. Noel shrugged it off, unabashed.

“But I’m worse by a great deal,” Hope continued in a lighter tone, a wan smile flickering across his face. “Carols are meant to spread holiday cheer, but I think if we were to inflict both of our glaring lack of talent upon the hapless public, we’d ruin the season instead. So go without me and have fun.”

Noel frowned at the transparent attempt at levity. Why Hope was so averse to the thought of singing? He knew Hope was self-conscious about maintaining an image, but surely some minor off-key singing wasn’t that damaging?

“Hope. I refuse to believe that someone like you, who can do _anything_ , can’t sing a lick.”

A thin line creased between Hope’s brows, and Noel realized he just made the mistake of challenging Hope. If there’s one thing Noel learned in all the time they spent together, it was that Hope hated losing.

Hope pushed at him, squirming out from underneath to sit up. “Oh? Would you like a demonstration then?” And without waiting for a reply, he began to sing.

Back in his original time in the future that never will be, Noel had once been hunting alone out in the empty wild. The sun was turning her face upon a stark morning, slaking away the sharp coldness into turgid heat. And from over the barren mountains, Noel had heard the single, lonely echo of some unknown beast, a long, drawling wail piercing through the sand and light, seeking out a mate that didn’t exist with desperate longing.

Right now, Noel was pretty sure he had a good idea what the answering mating call would’ve sounded like.

Quickly, he clamped a hand over Hope’s mouth, unsuccessfully keeping the pained expression off his face. “Okay, okay. I get it. You win. Just stop, please.”

Hope’s mouth stretched into a small smile under his palm, eyes lilting with a smug cast. Shaking off Noel’s hand, he leaned forward to peck Noel on the nose. “Why don’t you ask Serah? Or even Snow? He sings fairly well.”

An unflattering sound escaped Noel, betraying his thoughts on asking Snow. He snagged Hope back down against him, sulking into his neck. “I wanted to do this with you.”

“I understand, and I’m sorry.” Hope did sound genuinely contrite and that mollified Noel a little. “We can go ice skating or something else instead. A nice date with just the two of us. Wouldn’t that be better?”

“I guess…” But Hope’s hands were working at his shirt again, and Noel forgot about his disappointment.

***************************

The sun had barely risen over the skyline of Academia as he skittered home; the atrium past their front entrance was dimly lit and still cold with last night’s freeze. Hopping from one foot to another to keep warm, Noel quickly opened the door for their apartment proper, slipping inside into blessed warmth.

The place was still dark; Noel frowned as he turned on the lights. Balancing a tray of cooled danishes with one hand as he stripped off his shoes, gloves, and scarf, Noel padded into the den. Did Hope oversleep? He was going to be late for work at this rate. The coffee Noel had made before heading off for early prep at the cafe seemed untouched in the brewer.

Setting the pastries on an endtable, Noel rubbed warmth back into his face as he plodded slowly toward the hallway leading to their bedroom. If Hope was still asleep, then he needed form a strategy. One did not simply wake up a sleeping Hope—especially since they had stayed up rather late the night before. No, conquering the sleeping Hope would require all of Noel’s instincts as a hunter, a time-traveler, and a Guardian of Chaos. He didn’t really enjoy having to explain the black eye to everyone last time. (Though he did quite enjoy the apology sex.)

A stream of light from an opened door cut a rectangular block into the darkened hallway, and Noel sighed in relief. He was safe. Hope made it as far as turning on the lights. A bounce now in his step, Noel approached their bedroom, eager to inform Hope of the fresh breakfast he expressly brought over for Hope to bring to work.

Then a faint song, poignant in melody and rich in grace, reached his ears as he neared the room, and Noel cocked his head, wondering if it was from a radio. But he frowned; he didn’t think anyone in this time period would know the prayer of his people for a blessed hunt.

Nor would a radio sound like...

Curious, he poked his head through the doorway. The overhead lights were on, but the curtains were shut against the rising dawn. The bed was unmade—Hope never made the bed and Noel had long given up that fight—with covers half-strewn onto the carpet. And Hope… Hope was at the far end to the right, before the full-length mirror, deftly knotting a tie.

And he was singing.

He was _singing_ and it was not the awful mating cry of a lonely beast, but soft and sweet and—

A choked sound escaped Noel and Hope’s song—the song Noel sang in the shower every morning, was that how Hope had learned it?—abruptly cut off as the man whirled around in shock.

Their eyes locked. A slow grin slowly spread across Noel’s face and Hope’s eyes flicked to the side, at the bathroom door, like a cornered creature. He licked his lips nervously.

“Shit,” was Noel’s only warning before Hope suddenly exploded into motion. His grin wide now—Hope rarely cursed—Noel darted after him with a hunter’s speed, snatching him up just before Hope made it into the safety of the bathroom.

“Put me—put me down!” Hope yelped, squirming as Noel lifted him up into a bridal carry, spinning them around in childish glee. Hope’s arms locked tight around his neck, cheeks stained with embarrassment. “Noel!”

Laughing, Noel obliged, swinging them over to the bed and dropping Hope down onto it before flopping by him to trap him between his arms. Immediately, Hope rolled onto his side to bury his blazing face into the rumpled comforter.

“Quit being modest,” Noel told him, nuzzling his ear. “It sounded beautiful.” He found he couldn’t be upset Hope had lied to him; Hope had a strange appraisal of his own abilities, often underestimating his strength and worth. Hope probably sincerely believed he was a terrible singer, and just played it up earlier to spare himself some perceived humiliation.

“I know you’re looking at me like that.” Hope’s voice was muffled by the covers and Noel felt it was so unfair, not after what he had heard only moments before.

“Looking at you like what? That maybe being late to work might not be a bad idea?”

“Like you’ll make me go caroling with you or die trying.”

“Hope.” Slightly offended, Noel flicked a finger at Hope’s temple and the professor started at the brief pain, turning his head to shoot Noel a glare. “You know I’m not going to force you to do anything you don’t want to do. But still, I’m just a little disappointed that you’d hide what a great voice you have.”

Hope’s lips thinned into a line and his eyes lowered, lashes shuttering away the green. “It’s nothing.”

“What are you talking about? It’s great!” Noel smiled almost shyly, brimming with pleasure at the thought. “I’d love to hear you sing again sometime.”

Hope turned his head away. “I’d… rather not...”

Noel blinked at that, good mood dampening. “Why? You really are great.”

Hope didn’t reply, body tense. Noel started to tell Hope not worry about it—

But Hope suddenly rolled onto his back, staring up at Noel with that intensity which made Noel’s mouth dry, and the words died in his throat.

“It’s… the only thing I have that’s mine,” Hope finally said, quiet. The muscles in his jaw worked but his eyes didn’t waver. “So much of me is exposed to the public, stripped apart to be studied or criticized or idolized… Nothing about me belongs to me. I just… “ And his gaze lowered, insecure and guilty, as if expecting a reprimand. “I just want something that only I could have. I’m sorry, Noel. It’s selfish of me and...”

Sometimes Noel forgot the pedestal Hope had existed upon—still existed upon, to a degree; Hope never complained about it, sardonic comments aside, so it was easy to forget in their domestic bliss just how much Hope pulled onto himself without hesitation. Noel never really experienced the height of that pedestal himself, even as Hope’s lover, and he wondered how much of that was because Hope was protecting him.

But he understood just how much Hope gave of himself—Noel had experienced it on a deeper level back in that dream world—so he could understand this simple want.

“Okay.” Noel smiled and stroked a thumb across Hope’s jaw, gently urging the muscles to relax.

“‘Okay?’” Hope echoed.

“Yeah, okay.” Sitting upright, Noel pulled a confused Hope up with him. “So I brought home some danishes. Eat a few, then take the rest to your coworkers. You said they were bugging you for some, so now they can’t complain any more.” He rolled to his feet, straightening his coat. “I made them with a lot of love.”

“Noel!” Hope grabbed his arm. “What do you mean ‘okay’?”

Noel patted his hand. “I meant ‘okay, you want to keep this thing private, I have no problem with that;’ and ‘okay, stop being ashamed of your desires—that saved my life, you know;’ and ‘okay, you’re going to be late for work and I need to get back to the cafe;’ and ‘okay, I love you.’”

Hope’s face tightened and Noel could tell the professor wasn’t satisfied with his glib answer, but Noel wasn’t sure what else he could say to reassure Hope that really, it was okay.

“I see,” Hope murmured.

He trailed after Noel into the den, brows furrowed with hands clasped behind his back. Rocking on his heels, he watched Noel tie on his scarf with that same insecure and guilty look.

“Noel,” Hope said in a subdued voice as Noel put on his gloves, “if you want, I’ll … sing for you later. To make up for not going caroling with you.”

Noel gazed at him, at the curved bent of his shoulders, at the way his eyes shunted to the side. No one else would feel guilty about having personal desires but Hope. Even back then, when all Hope had wished was to save one person instead of the world, it had filled him with shame. He was someone who wanted to give hope, yet kept none for himself.

It amazed Noel every time, even as it saddened him, and it just made him love Hope all the more.

“Mmm, no, it’s all right,” Noel finally said, bending over to pull on his shoes with a tiny smile. He knew what Hope was really offering under that gesture, and while he was touched and honored, he didn’t want it. Noel already held what was important—he didn’t need anything else. “But how about later I teach you more songs from my people?”

At the ensuing silence, Noel lifted his head. Hope was staring at him in astonishment at the rejection and subsequent offer, mouth flapping open uselessly. Noel couldn’t help but laugh, striding over to kiss it shut before Hope could accuse him of stealing away his words again.

Hands gripped the front of his coat and when Noel pulled away, Hope was smiling sweetly at him, eyes softened with relief. “I’d very much like that, Noel.”

“Good. It’s a date.”

Fingers straightened Noel’s scarf and smoothed the lapels of his coat. “Be sure to come home early,” Hope said primly when he was done.

Noel saluted with a grin and wondered where anyone ever got the idea that Hope was the chaste one.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading~


End file.
